Let Go
by RoxanneTheGreat
Summary: Mastermind!Naegi x Ishimaru. AU. "Just give way to your all consuming, all feared, all loathed despair, and let me have you completely... " Two-shot. Lemon; sex. Yaoi; BL. Non-con? (Your choice.) CHECK PROFILE PAGE PLEASE.


**Disclaimer: **If I _did_, then our poor, dear little Ishi wouldn't have died because of a certain rotten gambler _bitch_... Grrr. T*T (Sorry, Celes is like my least favorite character in DR because of what she did to Yamada and Ishimaru both. I'm glad she was burned like the witch she is XP.) But anyway! *claps hands* This is my first DR fic and I would like to thank Killercakepop for rping this pairing with me! She's so awesome~ （＾ω＾）(and such a fun person to chat with on the lovely site called Tumblr.)

**Unbeta'ed. **

~Enjoy Please~

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**LET GO **

Makoto Naegi skipped happily throughout the stale, dark, and equally empty hallways, feeling like a excited, but rather spoiled, youth in a candy store. Oh so eager to receive his much deserve treat his greedy, bloodstained hands have been craving for since the bittersweet beginning of all of this wonderful mess between sugary hope and sour despair. Tomorrow was the fateful day the remaining handful of teens would "try" and figure out who the real mastermind controlling everything by strings was truly, and the giddy brunet had no time to waste tonight, despite all the chaos being thrown around amongst the desperate survivors's heads.

He had a stake to claim on someone he'd decided from the very start would be all his once his little game was up, and Naegi wouldn't _dare_ miss this chance as it was his only one to grasp onto before his plans fell apart and his fun would sadly end.

It would be such a waste to pass it up either way. Good for him or not.

Grinning from ear to ear, the deceiving boy hummed an eerily cheerful tone as he idly turned around a dully sharp corner and abruptly reached his destination — Kiyotaka Ishimaru's bedroom door.

Out of everyone else still alive and well, the pale prefect was so beautifully broken from his beloved Kyōdai's death, he always made the puppet-master's blood simply boil by one look; now having such dull and hopeless scarlet rubies for eyes. Thin mouth no longer smiling or laughing, red orbs no longer shining, soul no longer willing to go on while bleeding and becoming torn, tiny shreds every hurt-filled step of the way to "recovery".

Ishimaru hadn't spoken to one single soul since Mondo Oowada's exotic execution and that wasn't all on his list of crumbled, crackled behaviors. He rarely came out of his room to interact with someone else whether it was just a friendly wave, polite morning greeting, or even a brief opinion on breakfast. He also didn't eat much and had become so skinny and frail it was sometimes painful for Hagakure or even Asahina to look at him for more than a curt glance at a time.

And Naegi _loved_ it. To **death**.

For all aching moments made him itch for more! Ishimaru's despair was always freshly coated thick and sweet on his tongue, never ceasing to wan, and the brunet thrived on it every waking breath he could. He was quite glad that Ishimaru hadn't been suddenly and brutally murdered by any of his classmates yet, he really was.

Ishimaru's very life was all _his_ —to hold tenderly and then cave in it with scarring reality and truth tainted words of death the next.

Clearing his throat and rocking on his heels gleefully in pure, blissful anticipation, Naegi's lips twisted in a mirth choked smirk as he spoke gently in his mocking Monokuma voice, eyes amused and half-lidded behind dark shells since he knew the prefect was still up; haunted by nightmares for the third time that week.

"Upupupu~ Ishi? I would like for you to unlock your door for me, I have seemed to misplace my keys~" he whispered in a semi-threatening tone, the lies slithering out easily."I found something in Oowada's room that belongs to you and I don't think you can wait until dawn to have it back~"

Luckily he didn't need to coax Ishimaru any further.

The brunet's cruel smile slipped from his face as the door cracked open tense seconds later and he beamed up at the stiff, piercing bloodshot eye staring blankly at him through the crack.

Surprise dimly swirled the spiky haired male's raw, cracked voice as his lips quivered in bone crunching confusion, wild eyebrows scrunching up as his smooth forehead was soon weighed down by wrinkled lines.

He spoke up for the first time in weeks.

"N-Naegi-kun...?" Ishimaru muttered weakly, foolishly flinging the door wider instead of slamming it closed in his devious spark of human curiosity.

"That's me~" Naegi declared innocently, flashing another false smile.

Switching his Monokuma voice to his regular one without warning, he then quickly pushed the stunned teenager back into his room and shut the door behind them as Ishimaru, evidently shocked, had stumbled back from the strong force applied to his chest by sly, slender hands.

"W-what...?" The prefect mumbled out shakily, trembling as his breathing suddenly began to go shallow and rapid as fear pressed tightly down on his straining ribcage, sweat beading on his extremely bushy brow.

He tightly gripped at his nightshirt's collar, heartbeat irregularly roaring in his ears as the dusty, rusted wheels in his mind turned skittishly and gritted together, it only taking a minute or two for him to finally figure the big surprise out. The taller of the two teens paled greatly, staring deeply into the brunet's evilly leering, mixed-matched iris'.

One soft grayish green, the other hard blood red.

"Y-your..." Ishimaru sputtered, knees wobbling.

"The mastermind? Yes~!" Naegi finished for him and chortled airily, giggling at his classmate's facial expression."You look like you've seen a ghost, I-shi-mar-u-kun~! Why don't I comfort you~?"

The black haired male winced at the shorter male's edgy croon, legs knocking together nervously as he gripped the side of his bed to keep steady, thoughts a jumbled, spinning mess in his head. Slim fingers loosened themselves from his collar, his light blue clad arm dropping defeatedly to his side.

"W-why me...?" Ishimaru croaked out softly in dim outrage,"Why... tell me... _t_-_this_...?!"

The mastermind smirked outwardly in the crudest sense of the word's notion and stretched his arms wide, smile morphing and border-lining greasy, oiled satisfaction.

"Because I love ya~"

Ishimaru flinched instantly at his statement, recoiling as if burnt by wicked flames; crimson eyes slowly dilating in shock and horror. The seeds of despair that were nestled deep in his gut bit into him as they started to grow, swelling in size by being fed and nurtured by his growing sorrow and new tears.

Salty water pooled helplessly down creamy cheeks in liquid crystals, his emotions doing a tumble like his heart skipping one beat too many as he collapsed to the ground from all the never ending ill effort nibbling at his sanity.

A favored marionette's wires had been cut.

Ah! Ishimaru was so _beautiful_ in tears, such a lovely flower drowning in on its own water supply, pristine petals curling in on themselves in self-destruction, Naegi mused while seeing the other in front of him have a mental break down and fall into a pathetic heap.

"Y-you c-can't!" He sobbed loudly, shaking his head with slight anger weaving his tone. His lean body racked violently with hysteria as he teetered on it's steep cliff, shoulders trembling unstably."Only my K-Kyōdai can...!"

The brunet licked his lips in desire as it suddenly sparked in his stomach, hot and burning for more fuel. Easily he covered the distance between them, only leaning forward to gently cup the paler one's moist cheek in his palm. He began stroking the smooth skin with a rough padded thumb; locking wordlessly with wet, damp eyes.

Ishimaru didn't pull away, muscles filed on tension.

Kiyotaka was his own, personal little wilted flower, and Naegi was simply _addicted_ to cutting his stem short and ripping off his dried out petals one by one until it was bare. Only for it to flourish stubbornly and bloom again and again; the cycle merely never ceasing.

The hoarse scream bubbling in Ishimaru's throat was swallowed back thickly as he dizzily peered into hungry, sneering eyes; numb.

"Oh, but I can my dear Ishi~" Naegi pressed very tenderly, keeping a straight face, even though on the inside he was pulsing with want at being so close to the shattered prefect, his warm, unmarred skin so tantalizing to touch and feel quivering underneath him.

But, the mastermind had to admit, killing Mondo was probably his favorite murder so far, since it had led to this. The biker might have **thought** Ishimaru would be his until they had all found a way to leave the academy, but that slipped through his fingers when he had killed another, didn't it?!~

Ever since Naegi had laid eyes on Ishimaru, he knew he would be the one. The former strict teen was flawless; eyes brighter and more vibrant than a rose; so pretty, so delicate, so... deliciously full of corruptible hope.

So the rest were left to fall until only Naegi's prize would remain, and anyway, everyone else had things he just didn't like about them; hated was even a better word to use to describe how he loathed them.

Togami was just a stuck-up prick, Fukawa sadly useless, Hagakure an oblivious idiot, Kirigiri dull and too collected ...

Naegi was overly proud of himself as _his_ disaster had created more sturdy branches of all perfect, all smiting despair.

"Shouldn't I deserve a prize for all of my work?~" he cooed.

Blood soaked orbs narrowed up at him as Ishimaru's jaw clenched, his eyes having a shiny tint to them. Seething disgust jabbed at his insides, churning his poor stomach while his mouth tasted of acrid bile.

"No... You deserve nothing of the sort!" The prefect hardened, snarling as he bristled, back-bone finally showing up after pitiful weeks of hibernation.

Naegi didn't like that clear show of disobedience when he was so close to having what he _will_ get.

"Hmmm..." He hummed thoughtfully, hand slipping slowly from Ishimaru's cheek only to suddenly slide in his hair. Naegi laughed a spiteful chuckle, curling his cold fingers unforgivingly tight in the other's soft spiky black locks, pulling on the thick strands in childish teasing as his eyes narrowed in displeasure, firmly yanking Ishimaru's head at a painful tilt.

"And I think you should learn your place, _Kiyotaka_-kun, as my trophy~"

Ishimaru could only whimper **otherwise**.

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["Death Thought Otherwise."]

_Your thoughts? Continue? _


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